I used to write fics and participate in fandom all the time in high school and I have kinda fallen off, until my best friend @c-s-brickwall brought The Pitt into my life and reignited my love of Noah Wyle (I was watching ER as 4 a old calling him the pretty doctor).
To make a long story long, I have been fiddling with this idea for the last couple of weeks. As a plus size woman, I love when I am able to see myself represented in spaces, so here is my attempt at a Robby x Plus!Reader little fic.
There is a hint of smut and insecurity with one's body. If you all like let me know and I can do a part two.
Shout out to all the excellent Pitt writers on here! Ya'll inspire me so much!
Divider from @saradika-graphics
In any relationship, romantic or otherwise, there will be firsts. First time you hang out, the first time you cry at your favorite movie, your first kiss, and so on. Nervous energy was coursing through your veins, and you were positive that he could hear your heart thumping out of your chest.
This was not the first time you had come over after his long shift, to eat takeout and watch TV. But this time, you weren't just eating pizza and taking turns watching each other's favorite shows. You were staying the weekend. A whole two nights with your hot older boyfriend in his fancy place. You kept noticing him shifting - ever so slightly, getting closer to you. You were still in your regular clothes, nothing fancy. It had been a professional development day, so the dress code was casual. You wore a t-shirt, leggings, and a cardigan. When you arrived, he had told you that you looked studious.
"Like the kind of girl I would have had a crush on in school." His comment made your heart swell as he placed a gentle kiss on your temple. His lips lingered for just a split second longer before he placed another kiss on your cheek and then your lips.
While eating pizza, he had rested his hand on your plush thigh, occasionally squeezing it or absently drawing patterns delicately with his fingertips. This seemingly sweet action had made you hyperaware of just how big your thighs were compared to his. So you did something you hadn't done yet (or at least pretty sure you hadn't done since you started dating) and wiggled yourself into the corner of his couch, placing the pillow over your legs to cover them; a security blanket of sorts.
"You okay? Don't think I stink?" He chuckled, giving you a look you couldn't quite place.
"Yep, just getting comfy." He cocked an eyebrow at you.
"You know, usually when you say you are getting comfy, it involves you trying to get so close to me that you could crawl under my skin, not get as far away from me as possible.” Robby let his hand rub the back of his neck. You could tell he wasn't buying your bullshit but was trying to be respectful. He felt bad, and you felt worse because you made him feel bad.
"I just want to stretch out," you say with extra sweetness dripping in your tone, trying ever so delicately to place your massive tree trunk legs over Robby's thighs. He gives a passified smirk and begins to draw patterns on your legs over your leggings once again absent-mindedly.
You try desperately to focus on anything other than your legs in his lap, and they were massive. You thought about the other day when you picked Robby up. He had walked to work that morning, but the weather had gotten chilly, so you offered to pick him up. In you walked, with goodies for staff (never hurt to butter up his friends and coworkers with a well-earned sweet treat). You happily remembered how happy they all were, Robby included, and then your brain decided to ruin the thought. You had been chatting with Dana, waiting for Robby. She was asking about the concert you had gone to with your friends, when you heard it - his laugh. It wasn't alone. You also heard Jack's and Collins.
She is what he needs. She is what he wants.
Many people in your life have told you that your brain often lies to you. That they would tell if something was wrong or something to fix, but it was hard not to listen when it spoke.
"Sweet girl," his voice was soft, his hand warm on your thigh, and a few stray tears running down your cheek. You felt stupid and embarrassed. Quickly, you stood up, scaring Robby. You were making quick work to the bathroom. Not his ensuite, with all your products laid out over his and her sink. You went to the guest bath. Robby couldn't remember the last time you used the guest bath. You weren't a guest, you were his girlfriend.
His big hand gripped the doorknob and tried to open it. Locked. He gave a gentle rap to the door with his knuckles. He could hear you crying, breath shaky, sniffling here and there.
"Nothing, Robby, I promise. Just my astigmatism acting up." He didn't buy it. You knew that for a fact when you heard him mutter Astigmatism, my ass, under his breath. You listened to his footsteps walk away and thought maybe he was fed up. Perhaps he would wait until you got yourself together before telling you he was fed up and asking you to leave. Leave, yes, you knew he was going to ask you to leave. Why wouln't he? After all this, he had to be sick of dealing with you; you would brace yourself for it. The moment he says it is a him thing and totally not a you thing, but he works in emergency medicine, it is constant chaos. He just wants to be with a girl whose mind isn’t the same way. He needs calm, soft, delicate, thin, pret-
"If we have to have Dana come over to help get me off this floor, I will never live it down." In your downward spiral, you hadn't heard Robby unlock the bathroom door or begin to settle down on the floor near you. You had your back to the tub, legs criss-cross apple sauce, holding the very plush, very lavender towels (you had despised Robby's mismatched towels for this bathroom, so he had let you pick out new ones) to your chest. He was criss-cross apple sauce in front of the vanity.
"I promise, I will get my stuff in a second," you sniffled. Robby was looking at you like you suddenly had three heads.
"Get your stuff? Are you going somewhere I don't know about, sweetheart?" The pet name rolled off his tongue with so much confusion.
"You don't want me to leave after all this?" Your hands flailed about. He liked that you talked with your hands. You were passionate, and he loved that.
"Why would I want you to leave?
"You would want me to leave cause you are breaking up with me." Now it was your turn to look at him like he had three heads."
"Can you tell me why I am breaking up with you?" Robby giggled.
"This is not funny, Robinavitch!" When you used the full last name, he knew he had messed up.
"I am sorry, really, but you can't blame me for being confused about breaking up with you when I didn't even know I was doing that."
He slides closer, his big warm hand pulling one of yours away from the death grip it had on the towel. He gently smoothed his thumb back and forth, hoping that would offer you some kind of comfort. He hated seeing you like this. He knew he would from the minute you told him about your anxiety and bad brain days, as you called them (he loved the term, so he started using it), and all the ways it could play out. He also knew that there would be a day where he would have a bad brain day and be scared that his sweet girl friend, an actual angel on earth, would realize how broken he was, and in that moment all he would be able to do is trust that you would still be by his side when it was over - just as he was doing for you now.
"Talk to me, kid. Why am I stupidly breaking up with you?"
Robby moved so you could cuddle up by him instead of being squished against the bathtub.
"Because of this." You gestured wildly at yourself. He wanted to kiss you and call you cute. Instead, he squeezed your hand.
"And I am fat, okay! Fat fat fat and you are hot hot hot. Truly, Robby, what do you even see in me? How can you be attracted to me? I am a swamp witch. I am not hot, sexy, pretty, cute, whatever. In fact, I am rather ugl-”
Robby had had enough. He understood that your anxiety was being a bitch, but he wasn’t about to let anyone talk badly about you. Especially, yourself. He was angry, not at you; never at you.
He was angry at your mom for making you join Weight Watchers when you were 6. Angry at the kid in third grade who called you a cow and his older brother in fifth grade who mooed as you walked by them. Angry at your mom trying to convince you to buy a mother of the bride dress for your prom. Angry at your family telling you that no one would want anything more than one-night stands. Angry enough that every time you casually mentioned one of these stories, he began keeping a mental note with a very long list of things he wanted to do to them for hurting his sweet girl, his angel on earth.
Robby yanked you to him, right hand pulling you in quickly while his left hand went to caress the back of your head, quietting you with a kiss. You could feel your tears and the heat of his body. When he pulled away, he looked angry. You couldn’t tell if it was at you.
“Robby, I will crush you!” Robby wasn’t fragile. Logically, you knew that, but you also didn’t want to run the risk of hurting him.
“Now. If I have to ask again, you won't like the outcome.” So, you sat on his lap—full weight. His hands gently pressed to the sides of your belly. While you wanted nothing more than to move them, you had a feeling you wouldn’t like whatever Robby’s reaction would be.
“I need you to know that I am not breaking up with you.”
You nodded, afraid that if you tried to speak, you would cry again.
“You are fat. I know it, you know it. That doesn’t mean that you aren’t pretty. Jack tells me all the time he doesn’t know how I convinced such a pretty young thing like you into dating me.”
“You are cute. All the day shift nurses tell me that when you stop by. Oh, Dr. Robby, do you know how cute your girlfriend is? Her blush was so pretty. Her laugh is so nice. She gave me her nail girl's number. She is so sweet.” He pitched his voice high and squeaky. You gave him a little tap with the tips of your fingers, giggling like a schoolgirl. The tears had finally stopped—the sniffle slowing. Your breath was evening out.
“You are also hot and very sexy.” He watched as your demeanor changed. He could see you trying to make yourself small, avoiding his gaze. Robby gently tilted your chin so he could see your beautiful face and placed a delicate kiss on your lips. Every time he kissed you, it felt like your body was on fire. You wanted to relax, feel good, and enjoy the moment, but your stupid anxiety had to ruin things. You felt Robby’s hand gently caressing your arms.
“I need you to listen to me. Very carefully. When we met, at that Halloween thing at the museum, I couldn’t get up for a while, not until my erection went away. Jack still gives me shit about it.” You didn’t mean to laugh. It was funny, but it wasn’t. You wanted to believe Robby, but it seemed impossible. He could tell you weren’t buying it, so he did the only other thing he could think of - call Jack.
“What’s wrong?” It had become your automatic question when Robby would pull his phone out, assuming that he was needed by someone at the hospital.
“Nothing, I am calling Jack.”
“Why are you calling Jack? Isn’t he working? Won’t he be-”
“Robby? Everything okay, brother?” Jack sounded concerned and you felt extra guilty that now Robby had dragged Jack into this.
“Not quite. Real quick, can you tell my girlfriend how absolutely sexy I find her?” Robby gave you a wink.
“Bad brain day?” the other man asked.
“Yeah.” Robby’s hand gently squeezed your thigh. Jack cleared his throat and told someone he needed to step away. You were somehow even more embarrassed, a feat you didn’t think possible. You quickly tried to bury your head in the crook of Robby’s neck in desperate need of hiding, but for an older man, he was quick. His rough hand gently caught your face, squishing your chubby, round cheeks, causing your lips to pucker, leading him to place a reassuring kiss on them. A deep sigh came from the phone as Robby’s lips pulled away from yours and quickly rested his hand back on your side.
“You’re lucky I like both of you. Listen, kid, I am gonna say this once. The night at the museum, Loverboy, was so hard that he was afraid that he would knock over the display cases. And for the love of god, I don’t know how many times I have heard him describe you to people as a goddess. There have also been several times he has lost sleep because he spent the better part of his night scrolling through the selfies you send, got turned on, and had to fix it.”
A goddess? Robby had described you as a goddess to people? And not only that, he has gotten off looking at the innocent outfits and random little selfies you sent him throughout the day? Your brain was buzzing with all the things Robby could think about doing to you while doing things to himself, imagining you were the one doing them to him. You didn’t hear him end the call with Jack, to in your brain, visualizing your hot older boyfriend fisting his cock to the thought of you doing unspeakable things to him.
Robby shoved his phone back in his pocket. He could see that what Jack had said was hitting you. The gears in your brain were spinning, and he couldn’t read the look on your face. Unsure if the gears were spinning positively or negatively. He really hoped calling back up hadn’t crossed a line. He needed to bring you back to the present - get you out of your head. He let his hands sneak under your cardigan to rest his hands on your back. He felt you jump a little at his touch. Once he could tell you were focused back on him, he guided your upper body to lean forward, closing the distance between you so your foreheads would touch. Noses brushing against one another. Lips so close, ever so close.
God, your lips. He had dreams about your lips and the things they could do to him. You two had made out plenty of times, getting handsy like high schoolers. He didn’t understand it, but you loved to nuzzle, kiss, and mark his neck. He would never admit to anyone he worked with, but he liked that you marked him as yours.
“Sweet girl,” his voice was low, and there was hunger to his eyes … and his hands allowing them to squeeze the plushness of your ass,” do you believe me now?” You nodded in response. You jumped as Robby’s hand made contact with your right cheek. Your eyes grew wide and your jaw fell slack in response to his action.
“Too much? Did I go too far?” The tips of Robby’s ears had quickly deepened to a beautiful red color. You slinked your arms around his neck, wiggling yourself enough to tease your already nervous boyfriend.
“No, keep going,” you placed the sweetest little kiss on the tips of Robby’s nose, “I am liking this.” You wiggled again, this time with a little more force. A deep groan slipped from Robby’s lips. He took the opportunity to land a little smack to the left cheek, for balance.
“Sweet girl, do you believe me now? You are the most beautiful thing in the world. You have been the reason I look forward to getting off work so I can be with you and I haven’t been showing you just how much I adore you and how attracted to you I am, well, then I have been a bad boyfriend.” Robby planted a searing kiss on your lips. You let yourself melt into him, into the kiss, into the feeling of wanting and being wanted. Crushing this man be damned! God, did Robby love this feeling. The feeling of your full weight resting on him was heavenly. He meant it too; every word, every time he called you a goddess or hot or sexy to anyone who would listen to him babble like a love-sick puppy. Now he just needed to show you what your love-sick puppy could do.
Robby pulled away from your lips, giving you a chance to catch your breath. He let his nose brush your jaw and began to nibble his way down your neck.
“You are going to go and make yourself comfortable on my bed. I am giving you five minutes, and then I will be in to show you how much of a goddess you are.” His words went straight to your core. You knew that there would be a puddle in your panties, but something told you they wouldn’t be on much longer. Robby bit down at the base of your neck, knowing there would be a mark there later. You let a giggle ring out, and his heart melted at the sound.
“Yes, sir.” You made a quick getaway off his lap and made your way to his bedroom. Robby got up (thankfully) and leaned against the guest bathroom door. He was going to have too much fun showing you just how much he appreciated you and your body. And maybe, just maybe, he was going to have to see if you would call him sir again.
